


From the Wreckage Take Me Back

by Cast_Away



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Multi, Murder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sex, Time Travel, Torture, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29344335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cast_Away/pseuds/Cast_Away
Summary: While being tortured to death by Bellatrix, Hermione Granger makes a dying wish, begging for the war to be ended. She closes her eyes to accept her fate and then wakes up in the 70's surrounded by faces long since dead. Now in a time not her own she is armed with knowledge that can change everything. Will she allow history to run its course in order to maintain her own future? Or will she be the change to see the end of the war?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Severus Snape/Hermione Granger (one sided), Sirius Black/Hermione Granger, Sirius Black/Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 9
Kudos: 69





	From the Wreckage Take Me Back

Her screams had gone silent, her voice broken beyond repair from the abuse. Her body shook with each sob, tears running down her face along with blood. Drowning her. She thrashed and fought until her once forceful and jerky movements died to mere twitches.

Her right arm was pinned down by her assailant, burning and aching in pain as the knife dug into her. Her face and chest ached from the slashes there as well, but none were as purposeful or as deep as her arm. If she watched it would only get worse, but she couldn’t help the morbid curiosity. The cuts were deep enough to see muscle, even bone in some areas. The letters being carved in were caked with blood. This had been going on long enough that the beginning of the words was drying in the drips that had landed from the knife, and there had been more torture before she had turned to the dagger.

The cruciatus curse was almost worse than the knife. Every nerve ending was lit on fire and left to burn, over and over again. It made her muscles ache feel as if she had been thrown against a hurricane. With each question left unanswered, Bellatrix would curse her until it was clear the woman wouldn’t be receiving a response. The rounds themselves would last for mere minutes, though to Hermione they felt like days. When the curse hit, it was lightning behind her eyes. A vast expanse of black and purple lit up by brief, blinding flashes. She wondered if she would ever be able to see as clearly as before. She would never be able to be as whole as she was that same morning. It was a blessing that they hadn’t eaten for days, surely, she would have vomited otherwise.

Questions and questions and questions. Each left unanswered. Each unanswered question punished, pushed, and prompted.

_I can’t let her in. Harry needs to stay safe. This will all be over when Harry wins. Harry needs to stay safe. I can’t let her in._

“Come on little Mudblood!” Bellatrix’s voice rose above her own screams. “Where. Did. You. Get. That. Sword.” Each words was punctuated with the dagger digging deeper into Hermione’s supple flesh. “Where!” Bellatrix was frantic with rage, her pitch black hair a frizzing halo around her sallow skin.

_I’m going to die here._

Hermione took as deep a breath as she was able, her chest rose unevenly with it, no matter how shallow. She looked to the ornate ceiling, covered in moulding and gold leaf. Through the blackened corners of her sight, she could the Malfoy family standing watch. Lucius’s face revealed nothing. Narcissa looked as though she were mad that Hermione’s blood was staining the marble floors. And Draco. Draco looked sick. To the Malfoy’s right, Fenrir Greyback stood ready to take his pound of flesh after Bellatrix. Hermione had heard him claim her next, to see if “the uptight mudblood was tight everywhere”. Outside of her own wheezes and sobs, Hermione could hear Harry and Ron screaming for her in the dungeon. _Don’t worry boys. I made sure you’re safe. I’ll miss you. I’m sorry you have to lose another person, Harry. I’ll tell Snuffles you say hello._

Privately, Hermione made a silent prayer to whatever god was listening. _If I give my sacrifice, you WILL make sure that good will win out. I won’t let myself die in vain. Harry must win. Voldemort must die. Whatever it takes. Please._ With those words she took her last breath, eyes closing to the image of everything that stood against her. Finally, peace.

——

There was so much noise - too much noise.

She heard screaming in voices that didn’t belong to her, what sounded like a million voices circling her. The ground was hard and cold, but it wasn’t as smooth as the marble floor she had been on. It was rough and gritty, like how pavement feels when you try to push yourself up off it. She couldn’t moved if she even tried to. Death was much more painful than what she had imagined.

“Move. All of you, we must get her to the infirmary.” She knew that voice. Albus Dumbledore had died a year ago. _Makes sense for him to be here. But why would there need to be an infirmary in the afterlife?_

“Albus, who is this girl?” Another familiar voice rose up to greet her, Professor McGonagall. Professor McGonagall wasn’t dead. _What the hell is going on?_

“I’ve no idea, Minerva. But I’d wager she’s not a danger to the students on account of her injuries.” His voice wasn’t as withered as Hermione remembered it, neither was McGonagall’s.

Hermione felt herself being levitated off the ground and committed to memory how the breeze felt against her injuries. The sharp burning pain. _I’m alive._

“What is your name lass?” McGonagall’s soft brogue whispered to her.

With the last breath of energy she had, “Hermione. My name is Hermione.”

——

Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter were having a perfectly normal Tuesday afternoon. Their sixth year had begun only two weeks ago and already they were wrecking havoc upon Hogwarts. James and Sirius were walking along side by side at the forefront of the group, loudly plotting between them what prank to play next. Remus was a few paces behind the two boys, sluggish and aching from the full moon the night before. Peter had fallen far behind the group in his efforts to convince Mary MacDonald to spare some of her sweets.

“Prongs we’ve got to rig the snake pit again. I’ve almost got the charm right this time!” Sirius’s voice was beginning to grate on Remus. As much as Remus loved his friend, he was too happy for Remus to be able to deal with right now. Remus had spent the night in the Shrieking Shack tearing at his own skin while his bones broke and reshaped. He’d woken up with the aches and the pain as usual. As well as three new scratches on his face and chest and a few silver hairs creeping their way onto his head. With every moon, he looked as if he’d aged five years within a few hours - felt it too. “Moony what do you think?” _If I just ignore him he’ll leave me alone._ “Moony!”

“What!” Remus’s voice lowered to a growl and his eyes flashed amber. The wolf was still at the surface and even a little jab is enough to push him over the edge.

“Pads, why don’t you leave Moony alone for a while. It was ‘his time of the month’ last night. He always gets touchy.” Sometimes, James was a miracle. However, Remus could do without the air quotes. Thank you very much.

“Oh… Sorry mate.” Sirius ducked his head and got quiet. Remus thought Sirius was being genuine for once, but then he looked closer and saw it. That shit eating grin was plastered all over his face. Remus looked down at the History of Magic book in his hands and smirked. “OW! Was that really necessary?”

“Yes. I say it was very necessary.”

“Fuck off Mooney.”

“Not right now. I’m busy teaching you manners. Say Prongs, what would your mum do if I told her Siri was a twat?”

“Oh she’d send him a howler for sure! She says her sons need to have the upmost respect for our _elders_.” James’ shit eating grin was only a tad milder than Sirius’.

“Oh you little shite! Respect for our elders my arse.”

“Well it is true Moony I-” James was cut of by a loud wailing scream coming from around the corner in the courtyard. The three boys ran toward it. They were not the only ones. A crowd of students were gathered around something on the walkway.

All Remus could smell was blood. It clouded his senses and forced him to stumble back. “It’s a person. They’re hurt.” No one around him made any moves. “Someone go get Professor Dumbledore! Quick!” Three first years ran toward the exit to get help. Remus moved closer and dug himself a spot in the inner crowd next to James and Sirius. The first glimpse at the body was gut wrenching.

She was a small thing, she looked his age but with how emaciated she looked it was hard to tell. She was covered in blood and slashes, but he could tell hers were not like his. This was not some accident. Someone did this to her. Her clothes were torn and dirtied, the right half of her shirt was completely torn off. The clean skin he could see was mottled with deep black bruises, every other inch of her was covered in her own blood. Her soft face had a slash over her left eye, her chest was shredded in methodical cuts, and her arm. Her arm was the worst of it. There, plain as day, was the word mudblood carved into her - like she was a fucking Christmas roast. What had she been through? Who did this to her? Moony rumbled from within him, _We’ll hunt them._

——

Sirius had seen a lot of shit in his life, and none of it good. Being a member of the Black family had numbed him to the worser side of life. Usually, with him as the victim. Moving in with the Potters had saved his life - literally. His mother and Bellatrix had cursed him within and inch of his life and he was lucky he made it to the floo in time. But, this girl, she was the worst thing Sirius Black had ever seen. Besides the obvious slashes made into her, the tell tale bruising that only came with the cruciatus was heavily apparent on her skin. He watched as her chest rose unevenly. Her ribs were broken then. If he had to wager a guess on how, she’d been beaten as well.

She had been through hell. He knew the feeling.

Sirius watched as McGonagall and Dumbledore rushed into the courtyard, the green of the grass seeming even more vivid in comparison to the blood pooled next to it. They spoke to one another in hushed tones as they stood over the girl. Finally, Dumbledore had made his decision and levitated the girl off the ground. Sirius could hear as McGonagall asked the small girl her name and he would thank every day for his canine hearing. _Hermione. Her name is Hermione._

They floated Hermione to the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey defended upon her at once. Sirius stood with Remus and James in the doorway as they watched the mediwitch work on this small, battered girl. McGonagall and Dumbledore were in with Madam Pomfrey as she worked, helping, asking questions.

“This girl has been through hell and back, Albus. I’ve no idea if she’ll even make it through the night.” _No she needs to make it. She has to._

“Try your best Poppy. I’ve a feeling our little witch here is a fighter.”

“As you wish.”

The entire night was spent watching Madam Pomfrey heal her. What seemed like a hundred potions were force fed, balms were applied, an entire bottle of skelegrow downed. The blood was cleaned off Hermione’s alabaster skin, she had freckles hidden under all of the dirt. Everything that could be healed in one night was. The cuts closed and turned into scars, every single last one of them. Though, none of them looked as angry and raised than the one on her arm. In bright, red, raised letters, Mudblood still stood.

“The girl’s stable. I did everything I could. The dagger that made the cuts must have cursed, no amount of dittany will remove them entirely. She will have those scars her entire life, the poor dear.” She threw down the blood soaked rag on a cart and took a breath. “She’s been through torture, Albus. Literal torture. Who would attack a young girl like this?”

The headmaster gave a weary sigh, “You know who Poppy. War is upon us, no one is safe. Not even the innocent.”

“Where will she go? What will she do?”

“She will stay here. She seems to be student age - no more than 16. Help will always be given at Hogwarts.” The two adults left the infirmary, leaving only the boys who had been lurking just outside of the door.

Sirius let out the breath he’d been holding since he’d seen her laying on the ground. She’s going to make it. _I’ll help you crawl out of the hell you’re in, little one. It’s a long journey but I’ll be here to help._ He pulled up a chair to the left side of her cot and put his head down. Moony had pulled a chair up on her right. James sat next to Sirius, putting his head down as well.

“Hey guys?”

“Yea Pads?”

“Where’s Peter?”

“No clue. Now shut the hell up and go to sleep. You’ll wake her if you talk anymore.”

_What war?_


End file.
